


Kill Your Conscience

by Babywolfchick1142



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Harry, Character Death, Consensual, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dark Comedy, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Grooming, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Multi, Murder, Not Beta Read, Pedophilia, Sad and Happy, Sane Tom Riddle, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Somewhat Good Voldemort (Harry Potter), Top Harry, Triggers, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babywolfchick1142/pseuds/Babywolfchick1142
Summary: No noncon or underage between Tom and Harry.Sybil Trelawney made the choice to eat fish instead of pork chops on the day of her interview, that decision led to her getting food poisoning. She missed the interview, leaving her toilet bowl the only witness to the prophecy. Left unheard, Harry Potter as we know it changed..and yet a few basic fundamentals stayed the same. Harry Potter was still orphaned and thus was left to grow up in an abusive home. Following the death of his parents, Harry Potter became the ward of the very sadistic and Cruel Evan Rosiers until Rosiers untimely death the summer before Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. This story follows Harry's life, his past, and his future following the death of Evan RosierOrrrr:Harry, raised in cruelty, has no friends, no family, he is nothing in the dark lords society, with mediocre grades, and nothing at all special about him, who would even bother giving him a second glance? Yet somehow he still managed to garner the dark lords attention and later obsession. Harry is nothing at all like he pretends to be, rather he grew to be a dark cold-blooded slytherin,  with a near mastery in the dark arts,  and a empty heart.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Evan Rosier, Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Other(s), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story will forrow some very crude and horrific topics, such as child abuse, rape and pedophilia. None of which will be glorified. We will focus mainly on an oppressive society, and the survival of the children that no one cares about within it. It's a coming of age tale about personal growth and overcoming all obstacles to rise up and be better. 
> 
> Pedophiles are sick fucks that all deserve to die, there is nothing redeemable about them, that being said this story will focus mostly on a victim's point of view, whose emotions will be contradicting. Psychologically speaking, it's not uncommon for it to take time for an abused child to realize the things they have been through are wrong.

One small change can create a ripple of changes that shift the very foundation of the world as we know it, such was the case the night that Sybil Trelawney spoke a prophecy foretelling the possible demise of the dark lord at the hands of a baby. That very night she was set to meet Albus Dumbledore for a job interview, alas it was not meant to be.

See, instead of a nice pork chop for lunch that day, Sybil decided she wanted fish, only the fish was bad and caused our poor seer to have food poisoning. Instead of the interview, she spent that night alone, puking over her toilet- into which, she spoke the prophecy. It went unheard and the butterfly effect caused by her decision to eat that fish instead of the pork chops changed the world as we know it. 

The prophecy remained unchanged, just unheard, so it was never self-fulfilled, never acted upon, and never remembered. Sybil never could prove her talents, so she never got the divination professor's job. Severus Snape was at the hogshead bar that night but as the prophecy was never heard, he had nothing to report back to the dark lord in hopes of gaining the man's favor. He did, however, get caught snooping around, and he was kicked from the bar...

  
  


Leaving him to feel a certain level of resentment in regards to Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore, pushing him further into the dark as a result. Lord Voldemort still held some sanity, and even more than that- he held the loyalty of an army of followers, he was alluring, powerful, smart. The dark lord used every bit of his skills to reach his goal, with nothing to shift his focus from his originally intended path, and with no beacon of hope for the order, Lord Voldemort slowly but surely won the war. 

He took over the ministry after being elected as minister, he reshaped it to fit his agenda, he used the advantage to fill every position around him with those loyal and took it over from the inside out. It was genius really. The order fought hard and graciously, but instead they never stood a chance. Voldemort thwarted any and all resistance. The remaining opposition created a rebellion, some of which hid in plain sight. While others fled the country in hopes of finding a leg to stand upon and to rebuild their forces. The least fortunate were the ones who lost their lives in the fight, or even worse than that, were captured and either given the kiss or imprisoned in Azkaban for life. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Following the take over Lily and James Potter hid in plain site, they played the role of muggles. Keeping their eyes down, and to themselves, living in a cabin in the woods with no neighbors, using only the bare minimum of magic. They were as relatively safe as they could be, seeing as they were both wanted criminals. Just under a year after the take over, lily gave birth to a little boy. Harry James Potter,, the three lived on relatively peacefully for the next year and a half, and if it weren't for the fact that both Lily and James were stubborn fools, they could have lived long happy lives hidden away with their little boy...but they were stubborn fools. Fools who just couldn't leave well enough alone, who couldn't stand what had become of their previous home- of Wizarding Britain. 

Along with their friends Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, both of whom were also in hiding nearby, they surged an attack on the ministry- using the knowledge James Potter and Sirius Black retained from their time as aurora before the take over. No less than 5 people were killed in the large explosion they caused using muggle weapons.  
  


They had only meant to send a message, none if them- not even the muggleborn lily, knew the extent of the damage they would be causing. The dark lord decided to hunt them down himself, he wanted to use them as an example. It didn't take long for the dark lord to find a man called Peter Pettigrew, who as a close friend of the group, just so happened to know exactly where they were. It didn't take much for the sniveling man to give up his friends. 

  
  


On October 31st, samhain night, Voldemort made his way to the home of the Potters first. He was strengthened by the magic and spirits of the night, and he was out for blood. It didn't take much for him to get through the pathetic wards. With a flick of green light, the form of james potter running in, wand drew, stopped still crashing to the floor in a lifeless heap. James never even stood a chance, rushing in like the foolish gryffindor he was. A few more strides and he came face to face with the mudblood lily potter, curled in the corner holding a small child. She was begging and pleading for mercy, the dark lord laughed low and cruel.

  
  


Her blood would not serve him well, no, instead he called for severus, and gave him the choice of punishment...her crimes were severe, she didn't stand a chance and severus knew it. The dark lord tore the child away from his mother and passed it off to another follower. That night Severus cast the killing curse on Lily himself, it was a mercy really. She was the mudblood, the smart one, the mughle weapons were her idea, they all knew it. 

Not long after Sirius Black aas captured by his cousins Bellatrix Lestrange who remanded him into the custody of the dementors. He wasn't given the kiss, no, she was far too sadistic for that. She wanted to watch him suffer. Sirius would live out the remainder of his life in the torture taht is Azkaban. Remus Lupin was the only one to escape, with his sire Fenrir Greyback on his heels. Whether he managed to flee or not, the dark lord didn't know or care. Fenrir would never stop hunting the other if he survived, and if he didn't...well…  
  
  


* * *

Following the death of the potters, little Harry Potter was handed over to the Department of Child Welfare, a new branch in the ministry. They dealt with orphans, muggleborns, and neglected/abused children. The moment they proved magical, muggleborns were taken by DoCW and their parents, families and anyone who ever even knew the child were obliviated by a special altered strain of the usual spell, they wouldn't even remember that a child ever existed, there would be no trace.

It was a genius bit of magic, created by the dark lord himself. It was blood magic, they take the child's blood as a focal point, every picture, memory, and even any paperwork/records are magically erased. Any belongings are then vanished away, and the child no longer exists in the muggle world. The best part they? The spell only took about 5 minutes, that's all it took to erase a person's existence entirely. The children were then filtered out through a series of three homes, much like that of muggle group homes/orphanages. 

Whichever of the three they ended up in, was where they lived until they reached majority. The children were taught the ways of the Wizarding world, they were taught the manners, etiquette, the culture and the history of their new world. Each child was also taught, and conditioned to believe, religiously the ways of the dark lord. These homes were firm and strict, set to squash any and all rebellion.

  
  


By the time each child went to Hogwarts they long forgot about their muggle parents, they worshipped the dark lord and were firmly assimilated into society. Lessons continued over summer break from Hogwarts, each child was given a stipend for school, but after graduation they were on their own, and out of the homes. This was more than enough to motivate the muggleborns to work hard, the job selection for them was already thin. No one wanted to hire a mudblood, if they wanted a chance in life they had to work hard.

  
  


The orphaned children of magical parents, the children of the imprisoned, and the fled rebels, were at first brought to the homes with the muggleborns, before over time being placed with one of the esteemed families/members of the dark lords regime. Most of the families/members got to pick and choose, some of the children remained in the homes as they were never chosen or eligible for placement, those children were viewed as no better than the muggleborns they ended up being raised with.

Those in Lord Voldemort's regime that didn't want or pick any of the kids, had one randomly and unwittingly assigned to them. It was the dark lords will after all. It showed a sign of good faith to the people, the children of traitors were being treated well, living in luxury amongst the high ranking members of the ministry, given a chance at a better life- unlike the muggleborns. That calculated move appeased the public, and the dark lords number of supporters sky rocketed. He faced less opposition, magical blood, even if it was created by blood traitors and mudbloods, was treated fair and given a chance to thrive.  
  


However this move was not without flaws, many of the death eaters were quite cruel and sadistic, and honestly had no place raising kids. So some of those children now living in esteem, with a chance at a better life, were actually living in hell. Those children would have been better off with the mudbloods, but then...that wouldn't help with the dark lords image, now would it? This brings us to the tale of one of those very children, Harry Potter.

  
  


* * *

Following the death of his parents, Harry was placed in Morgana's house, one of the three homes for the muggleborns/orphans. Harry lived there for his first few years of life, he was taught the ways of early childhood wizardry. He was never chosen by a family, and spent many years without being assigned. It wasn't until Harry was seven years old, and the matron of Morgana house had already labeled him as one of the unplaceable, that he was assigned to a family. Harry was given over to the rmRosier family, or more specifically the very cruel, vindictive Evan Rosier.

Evan was lord of the rosier family, his parents were dead and he an only child, Rosier never married and never had kids. His only relatives being cousin Jonathan, Jonathan's wife and their son Felix, of which were merely a branch of the ancient and noble house of rosier. He was a loyal death eater and had been for many years now, in his mid to late 30s(having been born in 1954). Evan Rosier was unmarried for a reason, and he also didn't have any kids for a similar reason. So he pointedly refused to take any of the orphaned traitor brats unless he had to, alas Rosier was loyal and thus powerless to the dark lord orders. His role number for a child was called and he was assigned Harry James Potter. The spawn of a blood traitor and a mudblood, sadly for Harry this meant he would lead a rather unfortunate childhood. 

Evan Rosier was a very cruel, sadistic man, with a poorly controlled addiction to the dark arts, and a somewhat crazed, and vastly unpredictable temperament, that very fact shed a horrific light on the life of poor Harry. See fate has a way of twisting certain things to remain the same, no matter what changes happen along the way. The prophecy was always going to be- heard or not. Severus would always be in the hogs head on that night, peter pettigrew would always be a traitor, Sirius Black would always end up in Azkaban, James and Lily Potter were always going to be killed on October 31st 1981, and poor, poor Harry was always going to be raised in a abusive home. No matter what changed, the fundamentals would always stay the same. 

The changes this time however, were enough for Harry Potter to grow up bitter, vengeful, and full of hate. And that brings us to July 22nd 1996, the day our very own Rosier was sent along with Terry Avery to scout out a possible rebel base hidden in the Scottish highlands, only for Avery to return with the very dead body of lord Rosier. They were accosted by rebels and outmanned. Evan Rosier died, and that's where the story really starts. With the death of Evan Rosier, the guardian of 15- almost 16 year old Harry Potter. The impact his death would later have on the boy's life, and the impact his life already had. 

  
  



	2. Living Wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning home for the summer, Harry is pleasantly surprised to find himself home alone. 
> 
> Triggering explicit content in this one folks, Please heed the tags.

Harry hated the summer, it was too hot, too humid, days drug on, seemingly lasting forever. The teen couldn't think of one good thing that happened in summer, that included the cursed day of his birth. No, Harry much preferred the winter, autumn, or even the mild and rainy spring. What he hated most was having to return home. He could scathe the entire year in Hogwarts Castle, his day to day school and home. He could even avoid returning home for Yuletide, and the spring equinox, but there was no avoiding going home for summer. The absolute worst part about the season, he didn't have a choice but to go home.

He uses the term home quite loosely, because his house was not really his home, just a place he was forced to live. Hogwarts in all her sheer beauty was home, despite the fact he had no friends, and his house mates pretended he didn't exist, there is nowhere else he'd ever felt more like he belonged. Everytime he left for the summer, he felt cold despite the heat, the warmth never settled back in his body until he got back to hogwarts.

So far, Harry's summer has been blessedly peaceful. After arriving home, he was notified by the house elves that lord Rosier was away on assignment. It was nearing the end of July and the man still had yet to make an appearance. Harry had free reign of the manor, just the way he liked it. He could do, go, and read whatever he pleased, he didn't have to worry about eyes lurking in the shadows. Of course he was still extremely careful, the house elves held no loyalty to him, of that Harry was positive. The walls, the portraits, there were eyes and ears everywhere. Harry didn't particularly care about being caught doing something he is not supposed to, he doesn't much care for rules and limitations. He spent his whole life being heavily constricted by such restraints, that when he could, he completely ignored them. 

It's Evan Rosiers mere presence that stripped away any and all freedom. The man was a loose cannon, and life with him was a constant war. Harry never knew when he would be angry, happy, or even feeling particularly sadistic. Some days he treated Harry like a prized possession, and relished in teaching him anything and everything, mostly the dark arts. He would beam with pride, and for a moment, just a moment Harry would feel a warmth in his chest. Then within a split second, he would change, and decide a practical lesson of the dark arts affects was necessary. In those moments, Harry hated him.

It was a constant, never ending, flow of ups and downs. Every single day seemed to end with Harry in some form of pain. It was tiring but bearable, what was worse of all was when Evan drank. Alcohol left him unbelievably even more unpredictable, and Rosier  _ loved _ to drink. He loved to make Harry drink with him too, when that happened there was no controlling the destruction caused. 

Harry hadn't been prepared for the battle of being home, it was tiring constantly putting on a show for everyone around you, it wore him down. Having to tighten the mask and up his performance when he got home was absolutely exhausting. He could never just  _ be. _ Since Rosier hasn't been home, he'd been able to get as close to relaxing as possible. Harry can just breathe without the constant weight and pressure of the man's presence, or his classmates, or even his teachers. He could just be, and it was nice, relaxing. 

Harry spent the last few weeks combing the library without a care in the world, reading to his heart's content. When his body got stiff he would go out and explore the expansive grounds, or he freely practiced defense and offense spells in the dueling chamber. He animated practice dummies for mock duels to keep him stimulated when he felt particularly pent up. He'd finished all summer assignments the first few nights home alone. He ate when he was hungry. He slept when tired, he simply lived his life to his own drum beat. 

It was around 2 am when Harry decided to go to bed, he'd gotten lost in his favorite book: The Forbidden Arts by Jarvis Klein, it was very messily translated from Old High German to German, with some Old and New English mixed in. As well as a few other languages such as Latin, and another Harry could read but not place. It made for an unpopular read, not only was the topic very controversial, but it was almost impossible to understand the mixture of words within. Well at least, not without extensive research into languages. Harry was fluent in German, Latin, and knew enough about old English and Old High German to piece it together. He had no clue what the other language was, but he could read it as if it were English, despite the fact it read like scribbles. The very notion of that baffled him, but he chose not to question it, he would identify the language one of these days. The book was a true work of art. Evan would never be able to fully comprehend it, that made Harry love it more. It was his and his alone. 

Harry sighed as he laid down, tired from a productive day. A normal tired, not the bone deep weary he had grown used to. He forgot to eat dinner again, but thats okay, he was free to eat in the morning. He was free right now, that thought, as well as the comfort of his silk sheets, the pitch blackness of night, and peace of mind drifted him off to sleep. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Peace was never meant to be, the second Harry closed his eyes, he was plunged into the deepest darkest depths of his own subconscious. One second he was floating, blissfully unaware. The next, he was small, oh so small, and scared. A flashing green light and a scream filled his senses, the world tasted like fear and the salty wetness of tears. A woman held him tightly, so tight it hurt. Tears fell from her eyes as she shook her head back and forth. Before he even realized what was happening he was being ripped away. He looked at her pained face, with such beautiful eyes. They were so, so very green, and they only brightened as a matching green lit up her face, but then...then they fell dim. Cold, lifeless. And he instantly felt cold and lonely. 

The world around him changed and suddenly he was a little boy, at the end of Evan Rosiers wand. His whole entire being quaked in agony, as he screamed out in terror. It felt like an eternity passed in the blink of an eye, the pain was unbearable, he couldn't take it, and just when the pain was too much to bear, it stopped. He lay there trembling, staring at nothing and everything all at once. He wanted to drift off, to fade away, but then the pain was back, even more intense, he screamed. His body was screaming out as it thrashed from side to side, much like his vocals. He wanted it to stop, he needed it to stop. He shook violently back and forth, trying to escape the ongoing assault. 

Just as it became more than he could take, the world once more shifted around him. It was almost surreal, like an out of body experience, as Harry found himself looking down on  _ himself _ laying in his very bed. Except he was younger, much younger. A figure sat beside him on the bed, its hand gently stroking his face in an almost loving way. Before it started to drift downwards, glazing over his neck and slipping down beneath his covering. A cold chill set in Harry as he watched the slight bump of that hand drifting lower, lower.

The Harry in the beds eyes snapped open, as he sat up with a resounding gasp. A flash of fear set in his face, but he could do nothing as the figure pushed his small body back down. Pulling back the covers Harry clearly saw his pants and underwear down around his ankles, leaving him completely nude from the waste down. The figure climbed atop  _ him _ , forcing his legs apart. His younger self was terrified, paralyzed in fear, and that same exact feeling took over his senses as he watched the figure force its face upon his own. With a flick of a hand the figures clothes completely vanished, showing a very masculine, muscular Visage. The figure pulled back his hips before snapping them forward, and Harry felt it. 

He was no longer hovering above his younger self, he  _ was _ his younger self. He felt like he was being torn in two, the agonizing pain of his small body being Penetrated dry and forcefully with no preparation. Harry's head snapped back hard, colliding with the headboard of the bed as he screamed out in white hot terror. White spots blinded him and he was paralyzed with sheer terror. After what seemed like an eternity, he was able to look up. Eyes blurred with pain and tears, he looked straight into the red rimmed eyes of the figure. The smell of alcohol and blood permeated his senses as the unidentifiable face of the figure transformed into the face of his guardian, Evan Rosier.

The man barely paid him any mind, the blood made his penetration easier, the tearing and slickness made for a looser crevice, and allowed the man to jack hammer with ease. Harry could hardly register the brutal, bruising force, it was clumsy and long lasting, Rosier was clearly drunk. Harry couldn't handle it, the pain was once again too much, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to drift off into his mind. He needed this to stop.  _ Anything to make it stop. _

* * *

Harry awoke, much like he had in his dream. His eyes snapped open, he sat up gasping his fists clenched so hard they were pure white in color. He sensed a presence beside him, looking over he stiffened as he saw the very man of his nightmare sitting at his side upon the bed, eerily reminiscent of his dream. Harry couldn't help a small flinch.

"Y-you're back?" Harry whispered unsteady.

The man let out a melodious chuckle, Harry hated how a part of him found the sound pleasing. He looked up into Rosiers eyes which were curved up in amusement, as a sardonic smile set upon his face. Harry let out an inaudible sigh of relief. The man was sober, good, Harry didn't have it in him to fight right now. Not after that dream. 

"Nightmares Harry? You were tossing and turning for more than an hour, I thought it best not to wake you." His voice was sweet, unlike sugar or honey, closer to those dangerous chemicals made to imitate such things. 

Harry scowled, remembering himself. "It was nothing."

"Hm." The man said, clearly not convinced, but he let it slide. He must be in one of his good moods. "I leave for assignment from the dark lord once more, come morning, I wanted to stop and check on you first. I haven't seen you in so long, after all." He stopped for a moment, raising his hand to stroke Harry's face. Harry fought hard not to react, not to move. "I fear I may not be home again before you once more leave for school. I just had to see you." The silky smoothness of the voice washed over him, Harry hadn't a clue how to respond. Rosier must have known that, for he smiled, a real smile. As real and beautiful as the man before him was, a part of Harry loved that smile. The rest of him screamed that devils knew how to smile too, he knew exactly what Evan Rosier was. Don't fall for it, this will pass, his good moods always passed, and the bad always comes back. Don't fall for the tender strokes. The loving smiles…He is the devil, or at the very least, the devil's servant.

"Sleep Harry, you look exhausted, I shall be leaving shortly." Harry knew he wouldn't be able to sleep now, not with the man here. However, Harry allowed the hand stroking his face to push him back down onto the bed. He closed his eyes as the hand continued to stroke, and slowly allowed his breath to even out, pretending to sleep. He wasn't sure how long passed, before the hand stopped. He heard Rosiers footsteps retreat, and it wasn't until a while later when he felt the man's magic disappear from the house, that he allowed himself to actually relax and fall back into a fitful sleep. 

* * *

Harry awoke the next day with a deep sense of wrongness in his weary body. He went down for breakfast, and retreated to the library much like days past. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, he felt very ill at ease with the memories of his dream followed by the late night visit of his guardian. The house elves seemed shook up as well but they didn't seem to know why either. A migraine was taking over Harry's skull. He leaned back in his seat in the library, rubbing his temples, and closing his eyes. Something was definitely off, sighing he opened his eyes, and that's when something caught his gaze. The family tree tapestry, on a section of the left hand wall within the library, seemed different. Harry frowned in concentration. He gasped jumping to his feet, walking closer to the tapestry. The name Evan Rosier was a dark grey instead of black, beneath in parenthesis was the word deceased. The family head title moved below the name of Evans' cousin Chris Rosier. 

A chill of shock struck Harry, sucg ancient magic was near impossible to tamper with, the house elves off behavior, the air of wrongness...it all made sense. It could only mean one thing, staring at the tapestry Harry knew it was true, Evan Rosier was dead. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
